Into The Night
by Meghan4
Summary: Rory has a bad day that may take a turn for the worst. How will she recover? TRORY


Title: Into the Night  
  
Author: Meghan (miss_wales@hotmail.com)  
  
Rating: PG-13 to R  
  
Spoilers: Season One; it's now their junior year, but nothing of Season Two has happened  
  
Pairing: R/T  
  
Starring: Rory, Tristan  
  
Guest Starring: Lorelai  
  
Special Appearances By: Luke, Paris, Dean and Coffee  
  
Summary: Rory has a bad day that may take a turn for the worst. How will she recover?  
  
Disclaimer: Damn, foiled again. All right I did it, me me me. I stole the characters. But I am making no money. I was just playing with them. They're my marionettes. They do nothing without me knowing, so there has been no illegal activity on their part. No officer, he was born that way. Yes I agree it should be illegal to be that good looking. I promise I'll return them, I was just borrowing them for the time being.  
  
Warning: An abundance of sexual tension.  
  
Feedback: It makes my ordinary day a holly jolly Christmas. Please send it.  
  
Back chapters can be found at: http://www.geocities.com/meghan1943  
  
Into the Night Started: December 26, 2001 By Meghan Completed:  
  
Rory slammed the door to her locker closed with a resounding bang that echoed down the crowded hall way. Paris gave her a looked of contempt as she stalked out of the building. Rory shoved her way past the students meandering out of the school before her. She had a horrible day and was dieing to get home as fast as possible.  
  
Rory practically ran the rest of the way to the bus stop. She flung herself into her seat and leaned against the back, her body slouched in defeat. Her back fell off the bench and into a muddy puddle. Dirty water began to seep into her books and papers. Rory let out a cry of frustration as she grabbed the bag from the puddle. She shook it furiously to rid it of the excess water. Suddenly her book flung out of the open front pocket and land, pages down, in the puddle.  
  
Rory screamed out in anger at her own horrible luck. She stared down at her ruined book. The brown water crawled up the once pristine white pages. Warm, salty, tears began to run slowly down Rory's slightly red cheeks. She sniffled when she realized her book was ruined. There would be no more insight into the mind of Oscar Wilde today, and no more in the future, at least no more until she could buy a new copy. That wouldn't happen anytime soon, she was broke.  
  
Rory left the book in the puddle, not caring anymore, as she saw the bus approach. She waited at the curb her head reviewing her own sorrows. Rory failed to notice the large puddle in the road before her. As the bus pulled up the tires sent water splashing onto her legs, and spattering her clean plaid skirt. Rory closed her eyes in annoyance, couldn't anything turn out for the better today. The driver muttered an apology as she climbed on the bus. Rory plastered a fake smile on her face and seemed to wave off the accident. In all truth she was steaming mad. She plodded her way to the very back of the bus, once again slouching into the seat.  
  
She stared out the window, silent tears creeping down her cheeks. Every now and then she would furiously try to wipe them away, but they always returned. Each time she thought they were gone, new tears would spring anew when she recalled her day.  
  
The past hours of her life had been the worst she ever had. First she had woken up later than normal, which caused her to be late for school. She thought she had slide into class without the teacher noticing, but to no avail. Ms. Marx seemed to have eyes in the back of her head. She gave Rory a five page essay on Einstein's theory of relativity that was due on Monday.  
  
In another class she didn't have her homework, this was a result from her hurried rush to get to Chilton Hell on time. She recalled seeing the papers sitting on the kitchen table where she had left them the night before. Her careless mistake resulted in her grade being allowed no higher than an 80.  
  
Then in another class she had forgotten all about a test. When the exam landed on her desk Rory all but screamed. How could she forget a test? That was so unlike her. She took the exam, drilling every bit of economics she could remember out of her mind and onto her paper. Rory had turn in the test after everyone else, she was sure she had failed. The feeling of unpreparedness was so new for her.  
  
Rory hoped to find some solitude from her pain during lunch. All she wanted to do was eat her salad, drink her coffee, and read in peace. Alas that was not to be as well. On her walk to her table someone had tripped her. Her tray went flying. Her coffee flew one way, land on the floor in a sickening thud, the pure caffeinated delight spreading rapidly across the floor. Her salad had flown another way. She turned just as a seething Paris stood up, bits of lettuce and carrot dangling from her hair and clothing. Rory had mumbled a quick apology to Paris before dashing out the cafeteria. As the doors closed behind her she heard applause erupt from the student body, the sort of applause that was only given to the biggest klutzes.  
  
She tried to seek sanctuary in the library, but was kicked out because of teacher's meeting. Rory ended up sitting outside her next class, waiting for it to begin. She stood by the door as the bell announced the new period. Rory hid her face as a few students passed her. She could hear their snickers about her as they walked. As her dull luck would have it this class went no better than her other three.  
  
Rory was ready to bang her head on the desk when the teacher announced that it was time for the mid-year group project. Her head did make contact with hard wood desk when she found out that her partner was none other than her mortal enemy Tristan DuGrey. It was like fate was laughing her in the face. When their names were announced Tristan turned around to face Rory, his eyes made contact with hers and he winked. Rory grimaced in return.  
  
After class Tristan tried to corner her before the next period, but she avoid him with skill. Or so she thought. She made it through her next three classes unscathed, but when school ended she found Tristan stationed at her locker. He was leaning casually against it, a smirk upon his lips.  
  
"Mary." He looked her over. "You're looking rather delightfully today."  
  
"Not today Tristan." Rory shoved him away from her locker, he staggered back a few feet before regaining his balance. He sauntered the few feet back to her.  
  
"What was that?" He brought his head in closer to hers, his lips almost in her ear.  
  
"I said not today. I am in no mood to verbally kick your ass right now. I don't have the mental capacity to separate right from wrong today, and my depleted conscience will not keep me from punching you in the face right now. So I suggest, for your own safety, that you back away from me before I send my locker door flying into your face, and busting that pretty boy nose of yours."  
  
Tristan looked at her in shock. That had always fought with each other, but never had her comments contained such passionate anger. Tristan held up his hands in defeat as he backed away.  
  
"Have it your way Mary, you're going to have to talk to me later. That current events project won't get done on its own."  
  
"I know that Tristan, just don't talk to me today. I'm seriously homicidal at the moment, and the picture of your mutilated carcass hanging from power line is all to tempting at the moment." Rory then jammed the last of her things into her back before slamming her locker door shut. The look of sheer fear on Tristan's face was real. He gave her one last forced smirk before turning on his heal and walking quickly down the hall.  
  
A large tear traced its way down Rory's cheek as she recalled that moment. She hadn't meant what she said, ok, well at that moment she had, but now, she felt nothing but regret. She would have to apologize to him come Monday. Even a jerk like Tristan didn't deserve what she had said to him.  
  
At her stop she flung her bag over her shoulder and exited the bus. The walk home was cold and lonely. The chilly autumn wind whipped at clothes and stung her face. The dry fallen leaves crunched under her feet as she made her way home. She struggled to climb the porch. All she wanted to do was collapse into sleep and never wake up again. Rory unlocked the front door. She grabbed the mail out of the box before opening the door. Once inside she flung the mail on the table. She almost screamed when she saw her homework on the table. Rory shed her coat and bag on the floor before flinging herself into bed. She final sobbed into her pillow. Her muffled cries echoing through the house.  
  
The only good thing about today... it was Friday. She wouldn't have to suffer any of the consequences of today until Monday. At least... that was what she thought.  
  
***  
  
The warm autumn sunlight crept across the floor of Rory's room. The threshold between light and dark silently moved deeper into the room. Each passing moment bought the day closer to its victim. Rory slept on, blissfully unaware of the encroaching morning. The light consumed her bed, it's fingers reaching towards her face.  
  
Rory was aware, even in her state of slumber, that she suddenly felt warmer. She subconsciously welcomed the heat, snuggling even deeper into her covers. Rory was content to lie in bed all day, but that was not possible. The sunlight finally reached her eyes. Rory blinked a few times to adjust to the glare, before slowly sitting up in bed.  
  
Her tired hands rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Rory glanced out the window. It was a perfect day. The birds were chirping gleefully as they flew through the air. The leaves rustled slowly to the ground as the light breeze blew them down from the trees. A scowl crossed Rory's face. This was a perfect day that she couldn't enjoy because she was still grumpy about yesterday.  
  
Rory angrily threw the covers aside as she climbed out of bed. A frown marred her face showing the anyone who looked at her exactly what she felt. Her feet thumped loudly against the hard floor as she plodded her way to the kitchen.  
  
"Morning darling... wait, make that good afternoon." Lorelai's voice came from the living room as she looked up from her magazine. "I've never known you to sleep this long."  
  
Rory's only response was a deep groan of discontent. She continued on her journey to the coffee pot. The deep black mixture still gurgled as it dripped through the filter. Rory smiled on the inside. No matter how bad her weeks got she could always look forward to hot coffee on Saturdays. Rory grabbed her "Saturday" mug from the cupboard and proceeded to pour herself a cup of dreamy goodness.  
  
Rory sighed in relief as the hot liquid caressed her empty stomach. She snatched a pop tart from its box before slowly walking to the living room to join her mother. Lorelai watched her daughter as she crossed in front of the coffee table before she sat on the other end of the sofa.  
  
"Bad day yesterday?" Lorelai cocked her head to the side.  
  
"You have no idea."  
  
"Try me."  
  
"Rather not, this is one of those days that are so bad you don't want to talk about it."  
  
"Well you know where to find me when you do want to talk?" Lorelai ran her hand along Rory's shoulder in a comforting fashion. "Besides, I'll weasel it out of you soon enough."  
  
"Mom."  
  
"What? You are my daughter, we share DNA. I know how you think, because you are me thus making me you, and if I were you, which I am, then I know that I would be able to weasel the information out of me, meaning that I will weasel it out of you."  
  
Rory felt as if her head was spinning from her mother's train of thought. Lorelai stared back at Rory with an aura of complete confidence in her logic.  
  
"Mom.... you lost you after DNA."  
  
"I can go over it again." Lorelai was about to start in again but stopped when Rory stood up.  
  
"No, I'd rather not hear it. I'm going to do some homework." Rory sipped her coffee mug as she headed back to the room.  
  
"Okey-dokey." Lorelai's voice called after her.  
  
Once in her room Rory grabbed her backpack off the floor. She proceeded to pull the contents out of the sack and onto her bed. The pile of work seemed much larger than normal. The stack of books teetered precariously closed to toppling off the bed. Papers were strewn about haphazardly. Rory let out a sigh of stress before diving in.  
  
***  
  
Lorelai heard her daughter scream from downstairs. She darted out the door and down the stairs and almost slammed into a disgruntled Rory.  
  
"What's wrong honey?"  
  
"I've had it."  
  
"Had it with what?"  
  
"Everything. Not only do I have more work than normal, but I don't get half of it. I've never not gotten anything. This ticks me off. I wanted a calm, hell free weekend, and what do I get Chilton's version of house arrest." Rory paced back and forth as she rattled off her problems. "What I need is a stress free day, and I won't get that anytime soon. God, even coffee isn't helping."  
  
"You mean the miracle elixir is failing you?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Oh dear... this is bad." Lorelai looked shocked, coffee had never failed a Gilmore girl before. "How much work do you have left?"  
  
Rory seemed be steaming. "Just one essay."  
  
"Only one?" Lorelai asked again.  
  
"Just one..... why?" Rory could almost see the manipulative gears turning in her mother's head.  
  
"Ok, be a bum and put it off till tomorrow. Tonight we have fun. Me, you, Willy Wonka, and a ton of junk food. Sound good to you?"  
  
"Heavenly." Rory almost drooled at the prospect of no work.  
  
"Good I'll go get the movie and candy you get the..." The phone began to ringing, interrupting Lorelai's comments. She picked up the handset, which was surprisingly on the recharger. "Gilmore Fun House how may I serve you?... Sookie hey doll.... how are you?... what?.... you're kidding me... you have to be... Sookie I really... Rory needs a night off, can't you.... it can't be that bad... no I can't come.... fine. I'll be over in a few minutes."  
  
Lorelai tossed the phone onto the couch. Her eyes raising from the floor to meet her daughters. Lorelai was prepared to give her daughter the bad news but Rory spoke first.  
  
"Go."  
  
"You sure?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Rain check?"  
  
"You bet."  
  
"Ok, I'll be late... you do work tonight and I'll hurt you. Watch a movie, be a bum, but whatever you do.. NO WORK!"  
  
"Ok mom. Go, sounds like Sookie was desperate."  
  
"I'll be back." Lorelai grabbed her coat and was out the door.  
  
Rory shook her head thoughtfully, couldn't anything go her way. It was then she noticed the blinking light on the answering machine. She must have missed the call earlier. Rory pressed the button and prepared to hear a telemarketer, but that was not what she got.  
  
"Hi Rory, it's Madeline. Look I know were not huge friends and all, but I was just calling you to invite you to this party I'm having tonight. You don't have to come, but I just thought it would be nice to have you there, despite what Paris says you're not that bad. So show up or not, Party's at 8." The message continued with directions to Madeline's house. Rory was stunned, a party... a Chilton party... maybe she should go. For where there were Chiltonites, there was always entertainment, there was nothing more interesting then watching people be fake all evening.  
  
Rory contemplated the decision for all of two seconds before heading to her room to get ready. After leaving a note to her mom, she grabbed the keys to the Jeep and was out the door. Maybe a night of being around mindless socialites would do her some good.  
  
***  
  
The party was already in full swing when Rory parked her car in an empty spot on the driveway. She took a deep, calming, breath before swinging her bare legs out of the jeep. The pale blue skirt of her dress blew about her legs in the light breeze of the night. Soft clicks of her heels echoed through the night as she walked to the front door.  
  
Rory was on a mission. During the drive to the party Rory decided that tonight she wasn't going to have a care in the world. Tonight she was going to have fun, whether it be with Chilton's snobs or not. Tonight she would be a carefree teenager. But before that could happen she would have to put Part A of her plan into action first. Find Tristan and apologize for her earlier actions.  
  
Rory was about to ring the doorbell when the door flew open in front of her. She staggered back a few steps as a few drunken teens stumbled out into the night. Rory peered into the house through the open door. She was slightly frightened by the large crowds of people she saw inside. Her instincts told her to turn around, that no good would come of being at a Chilton party, but she pressed on.  
  
A few people gave her stares of astonishment as she walked through the entrance way. Rory's eyes darted across the room nervously. Any eye contact made with another human being did not last long.  
  
The house was gigantic, but the rooms seemed small, too many people to little space. Rory pressed herself against the wall in an attempt to pull away from the thronging masses. Music blared from speakers that seemed to surround the house. The walls seemed to vibrate with sound and laughter. Somewhere off in the distance Rory could make out faint splashes, the party continued on into the pool.  
  
The small space around her seemed to close even more. Were the walls attempting to crush her? Her head spun with confusion about what to do.  
  
Why hadn't she brought Lane with her? This would have been so much easier if she had. Maybe it would just be easier to leave now. Tristan's apology could wait. Rory turned to head for the door.  
  
"Rory?" The question came from a female voice a few feet away from where she stood. Rory looked up and her eyes landed on Madeline, the hostess. "Wow, I didn't think you'd come but I'm glad you did."  
  
Rory nodded silently in response, her eyes drifting to the hardwood floor.  
  
"Who's this Madeline?" Rory looked up when she heard the new voice.  
  
"Zach this is Rory. Rory, my boyfriend Zach." Madeline beamed at Rory.  
  
"Rory. Nice to meet you welcome to the party.. However you can't officially be apart of the crowd until you...."  
  
"Zach, she doesn't have to." Madeline pushed her boyfriend's hand away from Rory. In his grasp was a shot glass that seemed to appear out of nowhere.  
  
"...until you drink this." Zach continued on despite Madeline's protest. He held up the glass to Rory. She took it from him. The liquid was a deep yellow. Rory had no idea what it was, some form of alcohol would be her only guess.  
  
"Rory you don't have to drink this. Zach can be an idiot, an adorable one, but an idiot none-the-less." Madeline looked at her sympathetically. Rory still stared at the glass. Drinking was not a normal activity for her. What harm could come from it? She was a teenager, she could be reckless and daring. Besides, if she was going to stay around, perhaps the alcohol would get rid of the pesky feelings she was having about talking to Tristan.  
  
To her surprise, and Madeline's, Rory downed the shot in one gulp. The bitter liquid stung it's why down her stomach, but Rory felt the satisfaction of being a rebel.  
  
"Welcome to the party Rory." Zach shook her hand before slipping her arm around Madeline's waist and steering her away. Rory set the glass down on a nearby table. She surveyed the room with new determination.  
  
Her eyes landed on Tristan. He was leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the room. His arms were crossed and he did not look happy. A scowl was etched upon his face. Rory wanted to wrap him in a hug, that was a new feeling for her. Tristan and hugging, bad idea, yet somehow utterly appealing.  
  
Rory was not thrilled with his attitude. She began to make her way over to him, determined to accomplish what she had come here for. Something in her made her back away though. A nervous feeling mixed with something else. Rory continued to back up, right into a table. Her hands shot out to steady herself. Something wet slid around her fingers.  
  
She turned her head to see what she was touching. Her steps had ended up backing her right into a beverage table. Every type of liquor available seemed to be on that table. Rory looked back over at Tristan. Anger seemed to radiate from him. A friend moved to talked to him, but Tristan merely brushed by and fled into another room.  
  
Rory looked, down at the table. One more drink couldn't hurt her.  
  
***  
  
Tristan pushed himself away from the wall in disgust. Normally at parties he would come alive. Not tonight. His thoughts were still on Rory and the comments she had made a day earlier. Out of the corner of his eye, a female figure caught his eye. He turned his head slowly, focusing on the person. Rory. She had backed herself into a table, the glasses on the top clinking together.  
  
Tristan quickly pushed himself through the crowd attempting to make his way towards Rory. Every step he made forward didn't last long as he was pushed back by the dancing group. Just as it seemed that he would make it to Rory, a friend of his dragged him out of the crowd. Tristan let himself be pulled along, but no after seeing Rory down a shot of liquor.  
  
From that instance on, the night seemed to move in slow motion. Tristan smiled at his friend Kevin as he paraded him around the house, pointing out new girls, and future conquests. Tristan went along with it, not wanting to be rude. This was the part of his life style that he hated. Having to pretend he was content to be the ever- popular rich play-boy. Few knew that inside all he wanted was to be accepted for who he truly was, but who could do that, when he never showed the world his true self.  
  
Tristan was finally able to slip away from his friend to spend a few minutes to himself just sitting in the main room, taking everything in. People watching was something he loved, but rarely got a chance to do. His deep blue eyes drifted from person to person, each movement they made imprinting itself in his brain.  
  
It was in these moments that his eyes landed once again on Rory. All night his thoughts had been on her, like they normally were. There was something about this girl that drew him in. He knew she was beautiful when he first laid eyes on her. Then as he "got to know her" he found her beauty continued down to her soul. Even through all their sparring engagements and down right insults, he never once could get over how beautiful she was. Inside and out.  
  
There was something different about her tonight. She was mingling, Rory was actually immersing herself with the crowd. That was not normal for her, at least with the Chilton crowd. She was smiling. Rory rarely smiled at school, and never genuinely smiled when Tristan was around. Right now though, she wasn't just smiling she was beaming. Her expression lit the room, and Tristan's heart.  
  
Tristan's eyes once drawn to her, did not want to leave her figure. She was dancing in the crowd, surrounded by his classmates. She had no idea how attractive every male in school found her. She was the forbidden fruit, and just one hello from her received chorus of congratulations from their male counterparts. Now she was dancing among them. There would be some gloating done tonight.  
  
Tristan slumped back into the couch. Rory, no matter how good of a mood she was in, would never like him. To her, he was nothing but her tormentor and sometimes debate partner. That was all their relationship would ever be. Tristan's eyes roamed her face. Something was different, or than the smile. He felt that something was wrong.  
  
A thought dawned. The drink. Tristan recalled that earlier that night he had seen her down a shot. Memories of that night came whirling back. All throughout his escapes he recalled seeing Rory, always just a few feet away. But now, he remembered that everytime he saw her she had a different drink in her hand. Not a single one appeared to be without alcohol.  
  
Tristan suddenly became quite fearful for Rory's safety. His friends were like vultures when it came to women. They would lay and wait and then we they sensed that the victim was off guard they would strike with overwhelming force.  
  
Rory was definitely at a weak moment now. Tristan knew that she had never been drunk before, it just wasn't like her. He knew that he had to get her out of that crowd before something happened to her. She was just to perfect to be used like that.  
  
Tristan knew that he had to move, but he felt tied to the sofa. What would happen when he went up to her? Would she yell at him for ruining her night? Would she ignore him? Would she follow him? And what, if he got her off the dance floor, would he do with her?  
  
Tristan made up his mind, that even if in the end she hated him even more he had to get her away from his vulture-like friends. Before he could move though an arm pulled him up off the sofa. His eyes followed the slender fingers gripping his wrist, up a delicate white feminine arm, over a highly kissable neckline, before landing on a beautiful face. Rory's face.  
  
Tristan sucked in a breath when he saw her smiling at him. Her white teeth sparkled. Her eyes shone. She radiated happiness. She looked more beautiful know than he had ever seen her. Tristan felt his heart leap when she pulled him closer to tell him something.  
  
"I've been looking for you all night. I need to tell you something." Her angelic voice slid into his ear.  
  
"OK." The only words that would come out of his mouth.  
  
"Not here... too loud... come with me." Rory tugged on his wrist and pulled him across the room and up the stairs, leaving the pulsating crowd behind.  
  
***  
  
The scene seemed to play itself out in slow motion. Tristan could see everything, but his hearing seemed to be limited to only his breathing. He could see his friends smirking up at him, cheering him on silently. Tristan had no idea was was going on. Rory's little hand was gripping his tightly as she pulled him up the stairs.  
  
Rory, for her part, was feeling rather giddy. She was surprised at the good time she was having. Who'd ever guess that she'd have fun at a Chilton party? Certainly not herself. Rory was quite happy with herself. After a few drinks, which she thought did not have an effect on her, she had gotten the confidence to talk to Tristan.  
  
The pair ascended the final steps to the second floor. Rory gave Tristan's hand a tug and he stepped up beside her. Tristan saw her mouth open to speak, but she shut it again, and once again grabbed his hand. She pulled him a few more steps, into an empty room. Tristan noticed they were in a bedroom, but Rory was oblivious to the surroundings. All she knew was that it was quieter than downstairs, and she could finally talk to him.  
  
"Tristan." Rory weaved back and forth a bit. Tristan grabbed her other hand to steady her.  
  
"Yeah." His voice was soft and steady.  
  
"I need to talk to you."  
  
"Ok." Tristan smirked slightly at the innocent smile on Rory's angelic face. "What do you have to tell me?"  
  
"Tristan... I want to apologize."  
  
"You do?" Tristan was perplexed.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"For what?"  
  
"I want to apologize..."  
  
"We've already established that Rory." Rory pouted when Tristan interrupted her.  
  
"Shut up and let me finish." Rory looked like she was about to throw a temper tantrum.  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"Hey! That's my line... let me just get this out."  
  
"Ok." Tristan said with a smirk. Rory pouted a bit more, her bottom lip edging further south.  
  
"I wanted to say that I was sorry for the way I treated you on Friday. I didn't mean the things I said. Yes, I admit, that you can be a jerk, but you're still human... I think... and you did not deserve to be treated like that. So... I'm sorry."  
  
Rory hung her head and waited for Tristan to answer. At this moment she noticed that her and Tristan's hands were intertwined, and that they were in very close proximity to one another. She was struck by how natural the position felt. Rory lifted her head and caught Tristan's eyes.  
  
Something in her caught fire that very instant. Rory was not sure what it was, but she liked this new found feeling. As she stared deeply into the sapphire blue of Tristan's eyes she felt suddenly calm and comfortable. As if she had been doing this all her life.  
  
Tristan, on his part, found it rather difficult to breath. Here he was, Rory's hands in his... and she wasn't pulling away. In fact it looked to him like she wanted more. Tristan was over come with emotion. Rory was the girl of his dreams, and now she was standing in front of him, opening herself to him.  
  
The room seemed very hot all of the sudden. Rory had no idea what was about to happen, but it felt so right. She pulled her hand away from Tristan's only to let it come to rest on his chest. Rory felt his heart jump at the contact. She could feel his solid chest underneath the thin blue shirt and it radiated heat towards her.  
  
Tristan closed his eyes and revealed in the sensation of Rory's touch. It was gentle and soft, yet strong and curious. He felt his breathing become shallow and irregular. He knew that this was wrong, Rory was drunk, but he was having a difficult time trying to tell himself to back off.  
  
"R...R..Rory." Tristan's voice caught in his throat when Rory's finger found it's way into his shirt, pulling him closer yet.  
  
"Tristan... open your eyes." Rory looked up at him expectantly. Tristan took a deep breath and slowly opened his eyes. Rory was smiling at him. Her eyes darting from his lips, to his eyes, back down to his lips. Tristan knew what she was asking, he wanted to feel the same thing.  
  
"This is so wrong." Tristan shook his head slightly.  
  
"What is?" Rory asked while inching her head closer to his.  
  
"This." Tristan said in one breath before swooping his head down and capturing her lips with his.  
  
***  
  
The sensation that ripped through Tristan's body was unlike anything he had ever felt before. The thought of kissing Rory in a state like this was so wrong, yet the action felt so completely right.  
  
Her lips moved against his in a perfect dance of motion. She was asking, no begging, for him to deepen the kiss. Tristan wanted to go forward so badly, but was afraid of what might happen if he let all of his inhibition go. Rory's hands were swarming all over his back, pulling him closer to her. His hands, however remained stationary, one on her lower back, the other, cradling her head. Tristan was losing control of his senses and any moment longer would be the point of no return.  
  
He pulled himself away from her and attempted to back away a few steps, but Rory held him close. Her eyes bore into his. Tristan couldn't pull himself away from her anymore. The bottom half of her swollen pink lips quivered with desire.  
  
"Rory I...." Tristan's resolve was fading fast.  
  
"Please Tristan." Rory nudged Tristan's cheek with her own.  
  
"Rory.. this is..." Rory nuzzled her lips against Tristan's ear and kissed along his jaw line.  
  
"Please." That one simple request made his knees go weak. Rory's eyes made contact with his for a brief moment before his lips once again descended upon hers. There was no holding back this time. Tristan had tasted her once and had become addicted.  
  
The sweetness of the kiss had now morphed into fiery passion and reckless abandonment. His need ran deeply. Never in his life had he felt as alive as he did now. The same feeling held true for Rory as well. Even as intoxicated as she was on alcohol, she felt some part of her empty heart become full. She was becoming dangerously drunk on the passion and emotion that Tristan was filling her with.  
  
Rory's body had a mind of its own as her feet slowly carried her, and Tristan, closer to the bed that was in the room. Tristan gave no sign that he was going to pull away from Rory now. Rory's hands seemed to have a mind of their own as they slowly drifted down to the top of Tristan's belt. Her fingers worked quickly as she pulled Tristan's shirt away from the hem of his pants.  
  
Tristan inhaled sharply when he felt the chilled air hit his skin, and felt his muscles twitch when Rory's fingers caressed his bare skin. Rory's lips smiled slightly as she leaned into kiss Tristan again, but she met empty air. Her brief sense of panic disappeared when she felt Tristan's warm lips upon her collarbone.  
  
Rory moaned softly at the sensations traveling through her body. The sound just urged Tristan to move on. His kisses danced slowly, almost agonizingly so, up her neck. Tristan smirked as he looked Rory straight in the eye. She pouted at the delay between kisses. Tristan laughed quietly at the expression on her face. Rory glared at him before wrapping his shirt in her fists and pulling his lips to hers.  
  
Each time their lips met a new passion ensued. Not one part of their bodies was not touching the other person. They were as close as they could physically be without actually being inside the other person. Rory's hand began to feveriously undo the buttons on Tristan's shirt. When the last button was done, Rory found that her knees had backed up against the edge of the bed.  
  
Tristan had no idea where the were in the room. In an attempt to get closer to Rory he, he surged forward and actually found that she ended up falling backwards onto the bed. He crumpled right down on top of her. Rory saw his off balance position as an opening, she pushed the collar of his shirt off his shoulders and slowly pulled it down his arms until he was free of the garment.  
  
Rory slowly backed herself up so that she was lying completely on the bed. Tristan merely crawled over her before settling his weight on top of her. Their lips met yet again. Rory's hands dug into Tristan's air, sending tingles down his spine. Tristan's hands wandered slowly up and down Rory's sides before settling on her hips.  
  
Tristan's lips moved once again along Rory's collar bone. Her back arched towards his body at the contact. The movement caused Tristan to moan into her neck. Rory's hands hand some how found their way to Tristan's belt. Her fingers fumbled with the buckle.  
  
Tristan kissed his way back up her neck, and settled on her mouth again. He brought one hand down to help her with his belt. His hand came in contact with his he began to expertly show her what to do but he suddenly pulled away.  
  
The trance Tristan was in had been broken. He looked down at the beautiful girl before him and turned away in shame. What the hell had they almost done? Tristan scrambled off the bed and began to pace the room.  
  
"Tristan? What's wrong?"  
  
"I can't do this Rory."  
  
***  
  
Rory looked up at Tristan's pacing form from her spot on the bed. A sense of perplexion upon her face. Things had seemed to be going so well, and now, now she had no idea what to think. Was she no pretty enough? Was she lacking in her romantic ability? Did she disgust him? The more she thought about it, the angrier she became.  
  
"Why Tristan?" He turned to face Rory. Her tone was much harsher now than it was when she first asked him what was wrong.  
  
"Please Rory, don't..."  
  
"Oh I see. Was I not good enough for you? Do I not meet your standards? Am I more ugly than those other bimbos you've been with? I should have known, you have standards and I don't live up to them. Well good-bye Tristan."  
  
Rory scrambled off the bed and quickly made her way to the door. Her intoxicated state made that move much harder than it should have been. She weaved slightly as her feet carried her towards the exit. She thought she had finally made it to her destination when her hand fell upon the door knob. She turned the handle and jerked the door open, but it was slammed shut just as quickly. Her eyes drifted up the door and fell upon Tristan's hand holding it closed.  
  
"First I'm not good enough for you, and now you're not letting me leave?"  
  
"Rory stop."  
  
"Stop what? I understand completely now. You only date the beautiful girls, the ones destined to become trophy wives. I'm not up to those standards. Just let me leave." Rory said as she tried to open the door again, but was still held back by Tristan.  
  
"Rory for the love of God please stop this." Tristan pleaded as he stared down at her.  
  
"Stop what?" Rory continued to yank on the door but was getting nowhere.  
  
"Stop acting like you're not worthy."  
  
"Apparently I'm not." Rory growled.  
  
"You are." Tristan placed his hand under her chin and made her look into his eyes.  
  
"Then why did you pull away?" Tristan could see the beginning of tears in her eyes.  
  
"Because you're too special for this to happen like this." Tristan searched her eyes for any sign that she understood him.  
  
"I don't believe you Tristan."  
  
"You might not believe me, but if we went through with what was going to happen, you would have regretted it in the morning."  
  
"Says you." Rory slouched onto the bed, instinctively hugging Tristan's shirt which had been laying on the bed.  
  
"Rory. Don't do this. You are in no state to make rational decisions."  
  
"I am perfectly capable of deciding what to do in my life." At this point she fell off the bed. Tristan stared down at her rumbled form and kicked himself for even thinking that Rory may have felt something during their moment of passion.  
  
"That's it. I'm taking you home." Tristan crossed to Rory in two quick strides and helped her up from the floor.  
  
"I can drive myself thank you." Rory jerked her arm away from Tristan. He quickly grabbed it again.  
  
"Rory you just fell off a bed. What makes you think you can drive?" There was silence as Rory pouted in defeat. "Yeah. Let's go." Tristan slide his arm around Rory's waist as the walked out into the hall and down the stairs. Tristan could feel the stares of his friends boring into his shirtless body, but he chose to ignore their presence and deal with the taunting later. Rory was more important right now.  
  
Tristan guided Rory out the back door. She had her head down. Her nose buried in his shirt, seeming to be using it as a life raft. Rory slowly walked to her car. Tristan tagging along. When they got their Rory tried to get into the drivers seat, but Tristan made her scoot over to the passenger side, taking the keys from her as well.  
  
Rory leaned against the window, enjoying the calm feeling the cold glass gave her. She could feel the beginnings of a major headache. Tristan sighed as he started the engine and headed down the driveway for Stars Hollow. It had been a long night, and daybreak was still hours away.  
  
***  
  
The drive to Stars Hollow passed slowly and silently, as if moving in slow motion. Rory struggled to keep her eyes open as the effects of the alcohol began to overcome her senses. Tristan would glance her way every few seconds to make sure that she was all right, fearing that she would become sick at any moment.  
  
If someone were to tell Tristan a few hours ago that Rory Gilmore would become drunk and then proceed to throw herself at him, he would tell them they were crazy. Those kind of antics did not apply to Rory. She was too controlled, too in tune to her feelings to do something like that. But then again, she had just done what he had never thought possible.  
  
After what happened tonight, Tristan feared that the school project they had to work on together might be in jeopardy. He glanced her way yet again. Rory's face was much paler than normal, and Tristan could see a sheen of sweat upon her brow. He knew all to well the hangover she would experience tomorrow.  
  
Tristan sighed as he returned his attention to the road. No sense in causing an accident. What he really wanted to know is why Rory let loose like she did? Not only was it not like her, but he feared he may have caused her actions. If that was the truth then he vowed to never make those moves again. Sure she may have been all over him, but Rory was, is, too special for him to take advantage of like that.  
  
Tristan took the Stars Hollow exit, and proceeded to drive into town. He only hoped that he could remember the way to her house. Tristan chuckled silently as he remembered the only other time he had driven out here. At the beginning of the year he heard Rory comment that she had always wanted to read a book by Bob Woodward about the Clinton Administration's economic policy, but had been unable to locate a copy. Tristan scoured all the bookstores in Hartford before finally coming up with a copy.  
  
He had then used his "contacts" and gotten directions to Rory's house. He had left the book in her mailbox, without a hint of who it was from. She probably thought it was from that bagboy boyfriend of hers. At least she was happy, for the very next day, he saw her toting it around with her, reading it at every free moment she had. His friends still asked him why he was smiling so much that day. He doubted that he would ever tell them.  
  
There were few people in the world who know who the real Tristan was. He rarely let anyone inside. Ever since his mother had died when he was seven he refused to let anyone into his heart, excluding his father. They were best friends. Unlike his peers Tristan had a loving relationship with his surviving parent. That was another thing that few of his friends knew, and he wanted to keep it that way.  
  
Then Rory had walked into his life. She breathed a new scent into the stuffy educational institution that was Chilton. Tristan's heart screamed to let her in, but his mind told him otherwise. His conflicting emotions worked there way out in the verbal sparring matches that had become the highlight of his day. When he was away from her, his heart took over his sense. But, when they were together it was his mind that was in control..  
  
He treated her like crap and he knew, he wanted to fix that, but for some reason, he didn't know how. Whenever Rory was around he reverted back to kindergarten psychology. Attack the one you love. Then tonight had happened. She was vulnerable, and the only idea running through his head was to keep her safe.  
  
But his emotions went on overdrive when they were back in the bedroom. Luckily, he saw what was going on, and stopped. She may have been disappointed then, but as soon as her brain was functioning normally again, she would have regretted any actions that may have transpired had they not stopped.  
  
Tristan pulled into her driveway. He turned to look at her. Rory had fallen asleep. Her head was against the window, and her breathes were deep and rhythmic. Even under the influence of alcohol, she looked like an angel. Tristan undid his seat and walked to the other side of the car. He carefully opened the door, catching Rory in his arms as she slid out of the vehicle.  
  
He kicked the door shut and proceeded to carry Rory into the house, he just prayed that the door was open. It was, he should have known. Rory lived in a small town, everyone knew everyone else, why were locks necessary. Once inside he let his eyes adjust to the darkness. He had no idea where her room was so he laid her down on the first piece of furniture that looked mildly comfortable, the sofa. He draped her with a blanket, and gently kissed her forehead.  
  
It was then he noticed that his shirt was still in her clutches. He tried to slid it out of her hands, but she merely gripped it tighter to her, and seemed to pout in her sleep. Tristan gave up the idea of going home with a shirt on. With one last look at Rory, he walked out of the house and into the night. He pulled the cell phone from his pants pocket, and called home.  
  
"Dad? Hey... yeah I know it's late, but listen, can you come pick me up?... No, I'm not at Madeline's, I'm in Stars Hollow. Yeah, that little town. I'll explain everything on the ride home. Ok. Yeah.... love you too."  
  
Tristan cut the connection and stared off into the starry night. He would never begin to understand why things worked the way they do, and in some ways, he didn't want to know.  
  
***  
  
Patrick DuGray turned onto the empty street, and saw his son sitting on the curb. His knees were pulled up to his chest, and his arms with crossed on top of them, making a resting place for his chin. Tristan appeared to be shirtless. That idea was confirmed when his son spotted him and stood up. Patrick slowed the car to a stop right in front of his son. Tristan climbed in and closed the door with a large sigh.  
  
"Son, I know you're the big man on campus and all, but I think parading around shirtless in a small town might actually hurt your reputation." The elder DuGray's attempt to cheer up his son was only met by a stare of discontempt. Tristan slouched deeply in the seat and crossed his arms over his chest, turning his attention to the world that was passing by out his window.  
  
***  
  
When the DuGray's arrived home they were still in the period of silent understanding that had occurred in the car. Tristan walked into the marble foyer first, as his dad closed the large oak door. Patrick looked at his son's downcast posture, his head was bowed down, entranced with the floor. He knew his son well enough to know that he would talk when he was ready.  
  
He placed a comforting hand on Tristan's shoulder, giving it a light squeeze, letting him know he was there. Tristan closed his eyes at the touch and held in a sigh. He felt his father's hand slip off his shoulder, leaving a shadow of its warmth. The soft pads of Patrick's steps slowly faded away as he left the room. The door to the study let out a soft whine as it opened. Tristan couldn't stand the lonely feeling anymore.  
  
"I'm so scared." The words rushed out of Tristan's mouth in a hush followed by restrained sobs.  
  
Patrick turned on his heel and headed back to his son as quickly as his feet would carry him. His strong arms enveloped his son in a hug and pulled him comfortingly to his chest. Tristan gave in, and whimpered into his father's shoulder, finding solace in the soothing words his father was speaking.  
  
***  
  
The front door to the Gilmore house quietly opened. Lorelai slipped in and headed to check on Rory. The youth's bedroom door was wide open, but Rory was nowhere to be found. She was not reading in the moonlight, and she was definitely not asleep in her bed. Lorelai began to become frantic.  
  
She rushed into the living room and rushed around looking for the telephone. Maybe Rory was at Luke's, or went to the bookstore. She just had to be somewhere. Lorelai became more and more tense and scared as the seconds past. She threw pillows, and chucked magazines across the room in search of the receiver. She moved the blanket on the couch, and found the phone underneath a leg. She dropped the leg and began to dial.  
  
*Wait.... a leg.*  
  
Lorelai stopped her dialing and let out a sigh of relief when she finally noticed that Rory was fast asleep on the couch. Lorelai dropped the phone on the table and leaned over to place a kiss on Rory's forehead. No sense in worrying when she was in the house the entire time.  
  
Lorelai smiled lovingly at her daughter as she pulled away. She was about to turn and headed for bed when she noticed a shirt clutched tightly in Rory's hands. She leaned down and felt the soft fabric. She noticed that the shirt definitely wasn't Rory's, and she had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn't Dean's either. Just where had Rory been that night?  
  
***  
  
Tristan shifted his position in bed for what seemed like the thousandth time that night. He was having the hardest time sleeping, in fact sleep was eluding him. Tristan shifted once again and tried to get comfortable, but nothing worked. His eyes darted to his alarm clock and saw the neon numbers reading "5:30." It would be useless to try and get anymore sleep.  
  
Tristan rarely slept in past 7 a.m. The last time he had was when pneumonia had taken over his body and never left the bed. To Tristan the mornings were suppose to be the most productive time of the day. School didn't start till 8:30 and since he lived only 10 minutes away, he would often save his homework for the morning when his house was peacefully quiet. He thought best in the morning.  
  
No amount of thinking would fix his current problem. Tristan swung his legs over the side of the bed and leaned against his knees, his hands massage his pounding head.  
  
"Not one drop of alcohol, and I still feel like I've got the worse hangover on the planet."  
  
He slowly stood up, stretching his aching muscles as he did so. They screamed for the energy that the lack of sleep had left them without. The thick carpet muted his steps as his slowly padded over to his bathroom. Normally Tristan would jump right out of bed and decide on some form of exercise, be it running or swimming, but today was not a normal day at all.  
  
The soft light of the bathroom bathed him in a warm glow, but he felt chilled inside. Perhaps a hot shower would restore the warmth to his body, but he doubted it. Tristan turned the hot water on full blast and let the room fill with steam before stripping of his pajama pants and climbing in.  
  
The pulsating water streams worked their way into his tired muscles. They beat at his skin and left red stains in their track, but no amount of physical massage would relief him of the pain he felt. This pain ran so deep it wounded his heart. It left him cold and lonely. And he felt unloved.  
  
Love.  
  
He laughed at that thought. Who could ever love him.... besides his father? In his world of empty promises and superficial exteriors, did love even exist? He could not remember what true love looked like. His view of the emotion was skewed and altered by the empty souls of the life the led. Yet he longed to be truly loved with ever fiber of his being. He longed for the warmth he hoped it would bring to his cold soul. He longed for the whole it would patch in his empty heart. He just longed for it. To feel it's power and healing touch. He wanted it so badly it scared him.  
  
He left the shower feeling more drained than empowered. Did this empty feeling ever go away? There were times when he thought it was gone, only to find that he was hiding it from himself.  
  
He knew he could always count on his father to comfort him, but sometimes his encouraging words and tender hugs were not enough. He felt selfish in asking for more, but what alternative was there. This lonely feeling that consumed him? He hoped not. There had to be more to live, and he had to find. He had to find it soon before he drowned in this sea of despair.  
  
***  
  
Rory awoke with a start, and sat up quickly, before moaning loudly and laying back down. Her head was pounding and she felt nauseous. A sudden jerk in her stomach sent her stumbling towards the bathroom. Paying her respects to the porcelain throne was not how she envisioned spending her Sunday.  
  
When she finally felt strong enough to stand, and when she was sure there was nothing left in her stomach, she wearily made her way to the kitchen. The wall was a great tool to use for balance. Sitting on the counter was a cup of coffee that looked suspiciously cold. A note was stuck underneath it.  
  
She tested the liquid with her finger before deciding it needed a trip to the microwave. As the mug made it's revolutions in its happy, heated, heaven, she read the note left by her mother.  
  
"Hey they sleepy head. I'm a Luke's. I tried to wake you, but I think you were in a state of sleep that could rival sleeping beauty. I couldn't find your true love to awake you with a kiss.... so this note had to do. I'll be back soon, or join me... whatever. Love you. Mom."  
  
The microwave sounded its finish, and Rory downed the coffee before it even had a chance to cool. Bad idea. Her stomach was not in agreement with her decision and sent her barreling towards the bathroom once again. After her trip she decided to just take it easy and spend the day vegging out in front of the television. She figured she had some sort of 24 hour stomach virus.  
  
Rory grabbed the blanket that had fallen to the floor and slowly lowered herself to the cushion. No sense in causing any more journey's to the bathroom. She paid enough homage to the toilet god today. She was about to close her eyes when another piece of cloth caught her eye.  
  
She lifted it closer to her eyes. A pleasant aroma clung to it, and she inhaled deeply. That was when she began to remember her actions of the day before. She remembered her aggravation, and then the message on her machine. Rory remembered Madeline's face, and then her feelings of freedom. She remembered the first drink. Then her memory went blank.  
  
***  
  
Rory sat trembling on the couch, the shirt clutched tightly in her hands. She knew this garment had to be the key piece of evidence of her escapades the night before. If she ever found the truth about the night, she would probably throw the shirt away in disgust, but right now it gave her the oddest feeling of comfort. Like the baby blanket she use to sleep with every night.  
  
Rory was so frightened that even the idea of heading to Luke's scared her. How was she ever going to explain this to her mother? The last time something like this happened the two of them got into the largest fight ever. Rory was not about to disappoint her mother. What could she do? She didn't know the truth of what happened, and she couldn't lie.  
  
Either option would hurt her. Lying would come back to haunt her one day, and telling what little she knew of the truth would get her placed under house arrest. Maybe she could feint amnesia, after all, she was lacking her short term memory.  
  
That wouldn't be right, Lorelai would surely find out and have her head on a silver platter. Rory curled her knees up to her chest, and hugged the shirt to herself. She clicked on the television hoping that it would distract her from her predicament. But the noise just faded into the background as she shook on the couch.  
  
Lorelai walked into the house through the backdoor and came bouncing into the living room.  
  
"Rory, Luke should become a mime... he did this thing today that just..." Lorelai spotted the tears about to fall from her daughter's eyes. "Rory, what's wrong?"  
  
"I don't know." Rory fought to keep from crying.  
  
"Oh, it's one of those emotional roller coaster things." Lorelai plopped down next to her daughter and threw an arm over her shoulders, pulling close to her.  
  
"No mom, it's not one of those emotional roller coaster things, I don't know, that's the problem."  
  
"Ok, you lost me back at no mom."  
  
Rory took a deep breath, it was now or never. "I went to this party last night, and I think I got drunk, because I can't remember anything."  
  
Lorelai sat in silence.  
  
"Worst of all mom..." Rory held up the shirt. "I have no idea who's this is, and how I got."  
  
***  
  
Tristan closed his locker and leaned his head against the cool metal. His friends had been heckling him ever since he stepped out of his car. He did not want congratulations. He did not want them gossiping. But most of all he didn't want them to hurt Rory. Sure things between them may have looked bad, but nothing had happened. They would never believe that. Tristan was the big man on campus, what he wanted everyone gave to him on bended knee.  
  
This was going to be a hell of a day for him, but even worse for Rory. He had to find her before his friends attacked him. He slung his bag over his shoulder and made his way to the front of the school. Rory was just walking up the steps when he arrived. Tristan quickly got in step beside her and threw a side-long glance her way.  
  
"What do you want Tristan?" There was a hint of spit-fire in her voice, but it lacked her usual tone of conviction.  
  
"Rory we need to talk." Tristan leaned towards Rory as she opened her locker. Rory rolled her eyes and avoided his stare.  
  
"I had a really weird weekend, and it did not end happily. Please just leave me alone today."  
  
"That's what we need to talk about." Tristan's tone was very calm and rational, rather unlike him.  
  
"What?" Rory slammed her locker door.  
  
"We need to talk about what happened this weekend."  
  
"Tristan I have no idea..." She was interrupted by the bell ringing.  
  
"Just meet me at the fountain after school. I gotta get to class." Tristan bounded off down the hallway before she could even comprehend his request.  
  
***  
  
Tristan sat nervously on the bench near the fountain. His legs bounced up and down and he couldn't seem to see straight. His surroundings blurred as the thoughts of what he needed to say to Rory tumbled through his head. He had spent the entire weekend planning out this conversation, but he knew that his plans would be trashed the minute Rory opened her mouth.  
  
He looked at his watch and noticed that he had been waiting for nearly half an hour. His legs seemed to jump up and down faster. What was it about this girl...woman... that made his life speed up and brake to a halt in a single instant? Every second he wasn't with her went on for a lifetime, and every second he was with her flashed by in less than an instant.  
  
It was this maddening cycle of emotions and time that drove him crazy, and drove his need to know her even more. He knew he was being a jackass for the way he treated her. He knew it, and yet he still did it. The fact that she was so close and yet so far destroyed any rational thoughts he had. All the careful planning, the mental berating, they all disappeared when she was near. But not today. He vowed that if it was the last thing he ever did, he would control his childishness today. He would talk this over with her, like adults.  
  
Tristan buried his head in his hands, and ran his long fingers through his tussled blonde locks. He couldn't sit anymore, it only served to agitate his nerves even more. Tristan stood and began to pace back and forth in front of the bench. His hands went into his pockets, and back out again. His breathing was shallow and irregular. He could just imagine the insults tossed his way if any of his friends caught him in this state.  
  
A noise, a step, caught his attention. In an instant his eyes were lifted from their downcast position. The immediately caught the piercing blue eyes that stared at him. That beautiful color could only belong to one person. Rory.  
  
She stared at him. Her head cocked to one side. A perplexed look upon her face. Rory had never seen Tristan in this state. His confidence was gone, the arrogance and self-preservationist attitude evaporated into thin air. He looked nervous, unsure of himself... he looked scared.  
  
In all the time Rory had known Tristan, he had never looked scared. He was the rock of the school. She could always count on him to be a jerk. This new side of him and thrown her emotions off balance.  
  
They continued to stare at one another. Neither making any move to close the gap between them, or say the first word. Almost as if doing so would break the gentle peace that had descended on them the instant their eyes met. This solitude was a new an unexplored territory for them.  
  
Rory took the initiative when she was afraid of what lay before them. Better to get it over with then to leave herself in wonder.  
  
"You wanted me to meet you." She made a few steps towards him, and stopped.  
  
"Yeah." Tristan's strong gaze faltered away from her eyes and onto the bench. He motioned for her to sit. She hesitantly did so. Tristan took a seat beside her, but refused to look at her.  
  
"Are you ok?" Rory asked leaning towards him.  
  
Tristan took a deep breath and calmed the butterflies that were beginning to form. "I'm fine."  
  
"Ok, you just looked a bit flustered, not to mention pale." Rory laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. He looked like a broken china doll.  
  
Tristan's breath quickened at her touch, and it took ever ounce of resolve in him not to sweep her into his arms. After everything that happened between them Saturday night, even the simple thought of her tender caress drove him to the breaking point. Actually feeling her hand on him almost drove him over the edge.  
  
He took one last deep breath and gathered his strength. "Rory, I needed to talk to you about... about what happened Saturday night at the party."  
  
Rory drew her hand away as if his clothing had suddenly burnt her. "Oh!"  
  
"We need to talk about what happened between us." Tristan closed his eyes as if to block out a horrible pain.  
  
Rory's eyes blinked rapidly a few times as she broke down his words. 'Us?' Something had happened between the two of them. "I'm not sure I know what you mean."  
  
Tristan's eyes slowly opened. "You don't remember?" He turned to look at her. All she could do was nod 'no' in reply. He chuckled slightly to himself, before speaking in a hushed tone. "Of course you wouldn't remember... you were drunk. God Tristan you're so stupid. You knew she wouldn't remember."  
  
He stood up from the bench and began pacing again. His expression went from agitation to fear to self-amusement and back again. All Rory could do was to watch him pace back and forth, what little memory she had of that night tumbling through her head.  
  
"Tristan?" Her worried voice was enough to make him stop his movement and stare into her eyes. She swallowed before proceeding. "What did happen between us Saturday night?"  
  
How was he suppose to answer that? Rory it was the most remarkable night of my life. Rory, we almost made love. Rory, you got drunk off you ass and I almost took advantage of you. Rory, I'm falling hopelessly in love with you.  
  
What words could he use to tell her that she had come onto him? What sentence would answer that complicated question? Did she want the physical happenings, or the emotional changes that had transcended that night? Would she believe him? Could he really answer that question? Did he really even know the answer to that question himself?  
  
"Rory.... you still have my shirt."  
  
***  
  
Rory did a double take. Of all the things she had expected him to say, that was the last thing that had crossed her mind. The fact that the shirt she had used as a lifeline these past few hours belonged to him only deepened the mystery of what had happened at the party.  
  
Rory began to tremble in fear. The implications of his words alone left her feeling wounded, and the thought of the actual actions that could have occurred only deepened that pain that had suddenly chilled her to the bone.  
  
Tristan stared down at Rory and saw her face drain of its warm color. He noticed that her hands had begun to tremble and she gripped the edge of the bench in an attempt to keep them still. It didn't work, her entire body began to shake. Rory looked to be growing frailer with each passing second. Tristan was scared that any moment now she would pass out. His mind raced with ideas of how he could react. He wanted to move to her but was afraid she would reject him. But one simple look at the terrified girl in front of him made thinking over the possible consequences impossible.  
  
Tristan covered the few feet between them in two quick strides. He sat beside her and wrapped his arms around her, attempting to comfort her, squeezing her to him ever so gently. Tristan's eyes searched all over her face in an attempt to figure out what she was thinking. Her breathing was becoming quicker and shallower with each passing moment. Tristan attempted to soothe her more by humming softly in her ear. One hand began to gently rub her back in slow circles.  
  
Rory's shaking subsided and her breathing became deeper again. Under other circumstances she would lean into his touch, welcoming it whole-heartedly. But the trembles of fear were replaced by her struggle to break away from Tristan's grip. She pushed his arms off of her and stood, taking quick steps to put distance between them.  
  
Tristan stood up and followed her, afraid that her movement was because she was about to be sick. In his need to care for her he failed to miss the anger in her eyes. When Rory saw him following she turned her back to him. Tristan reached out a placed his hand gently on her shoulder.  
  
Rory immediately jerked back around and slap his hand away. Tristan looked at her in shock. Just a second ago she seemed like she was going to fall apart, and now she looked stronger than ever, full of fury and strength. Her eyes burned deeply into his searing his emotions to the core.  
  
"Don't ever touch me again." Rory's harsh words were spoken through a deep scowl. She turned to dash away from him, but Tristan's hand gripped her arm before she could make an escape.  
  
"Rory we need to talk this over." Rory's back was to him as he pleaded with her. Her shoulder's moved up and down rapidly in her anger.  
  
"There's nothing to say. The implications of your words say it all. Leave me alone Tristan." Rory struggled to break away from his grip but Tristan simply held her tighter before whipping her around to face him.  
  
"Rory it's not what it looks like." His eyes scanned her face looking for the least bit of break in her solid front.  
  
"Oh really, you could have fooled me Tristan. Then what does it look like? I did your laundry while we were at the party and forgot to give you back your shirt. Sorry Tristan, that didn't happen." She tried to jerk away from him again but her held her fast. It would be painful for her to hear, but she had to know the truth of what happened that night.  
  
"Rory.... please listen to me."  
  
"Why should I? I don't want to have to hear how you finally conquered the untamed beauty. I don't want to be another notch on your bedpost. I don't want to be one of your whores. I didn't want anything to do with you. Then I had to be so stupid to get drunk and let you... god...I can't even say it." She pulled with all her might, Tristan wouldn't let her go at first, and then he released his grip and let her run away from him.  
  
She got a few feet from him when his words stopped her in her tracks.  
  
"Nothing happened Rory. You aren't a conquered being, you aren't a notch, and you are not, and will never be a whore."  
  
The words were soft and his head was downcast. Rory slowly turned and looked upon his defeated figure. Her face grew soft, and the strength she had moments ago flowed out of her body.  
  
"What?" She asked inquisitively.  
  
"Nothing happened, but I can understand that you don't want anything to do with me. I'll leave you alone now." Tristan stuffed his hands in his pockets and brushed past her. His heart hurting more than he thought possible.  
  
"Wait... Tristan." He stopped but didn't turn.  
  
"What did happen?" Rory walked closer to him, but made no move to touch him.  
  
"You were drunk and my friends were all over you. I didn't want to see you get hurt so I tried to pull you away. You said you had something important to say to me and we went up stairs. We ended up alone in a bedroom." He paused to breath, willing the rest of the night to be spoken. "You tried to apologize to me for what you said on Friday. Then, well I honestly can't say what sparked it. But we kissed and well.... the shirt came off. I stopped it before we went to far. You were drunk, you had no idea what you were doing. It's entirely my fault."  
  
Rory stood in silence allowing his words to soak into her memory. Not wanting to believe that they had any truth to them.  
  
"If I was so drunk then how did I get home?" She wanted his story to be wrong.  
  
"I drove you. You held my shirt so tightly I didn't even think of taking it from you. You fell asleep in your car and I carried you inside and laid you down on the couch. I'm sorry for everything that happened Rory. I'll leave you alone now."  
  
Tristan walked out of the courtyard leaving Rory alone, his shirt still in her backpack.  
  
***  
  
Tristan scuffed his feet as he slowed walked towards his car. Things had not gone has they had planned, granted he was being ideal with the way he thought things were going to go. He sighed as his stupidity, thinking that Rory would forgive him in an instant, and things would go back to "normal." But Rory always surprised him and today was no exception.  
  
He shoved his hands into his pockets. His right hand jingling the car keys inside. It felt worse now than he did after the actual incident. Perhaps it would have been better for Rory if she remained oblivious. But then again, she would have found out somehow, and then things would have been even worse.  
  
Tristan watched the ground, is eyes following the solitary pebble that he was kicking along the pavement. At that moment he felt like that pebble. Tossed and beaten, with no set destination.  
  
He let out a long sigh before pulling his keys from his pocket and twirling them around his fingers. Tristan knew that his father would ask what was up as soon as he walked in the door. He was not looking forward to that moment, because Tristan didn't even know what was going on. Rory was this enigma who dazzled him with her mystery, and no matter how hard he tried he would never break her code.  
  
***  
  
Rory stood motionless in the courtyard, the trickling fountain behind her was the only noise in the air. Her eyes stared out at Tristan's retreating form. His head was turned down and he looked like the life had been sucked out of him. Rory had never seen him seen so defeated.  
  
But what the hell had just happened?  
  
Tristan had just reversed every preconception Rory had about him. He didn't act like a jerk and he didn't try to force her to do anything. He simply relayed the evening to her, and walked away. Just like that. No questions asked, no prying for a date, nothing. He treated her like a human being.  
  
Damn him.  
  
He had backed off when she would have asked him to if she were herself that night. Tristan had actually cared about her enough to think about the consequences of their actions when she could not. He had been a decent human being. He took care of her, he kept her safe..... he had been gentlemanly.  
  
That idea through Rory's mind into a tailspin. The thought of Tristan being a normal decent human being screwed up her image of him. She didn't like it when people did complete 180's on her. It caused her to have to rethink everything she knew about the person. Tristan wasn't suppose to be nice and all polite like. He was suppose to be a cocky, arrogant, egotistical prick. And yet... he had just acted like nothing he had before.  
  
Rory watched as he kicked a pebble across the parking lot. She let out a groan of frustration. What was she to do? They still had to work on that project together, and things would be really awkward if they just left their conversation with his walking away.  
  
***  
  
Tristan fumbled with his car keys as he tried to find the one that would unlock his door. His hands shook with frustration, over the fact that he couldn't find the right key, but mainly over what had just happened with Rory. As his frustration grew so did his urge to cry. The feeling of the tears welling up in his eyes made him even more frustrated.  
  
He hadn't cried in so long. He knew it was coming. There were times when all he wanted to do was let loose and just let the tears fall from his eyes, but he never let them. He always took a deep breath and willed them to go away. He pushed back his fears and put on a strong front.  
  
But now, it was becoming harder and harder to do so. A single tear trickled down his face. It slowly rolled down his cheek, where he angrily brushed it back. He was about to bury his head in his arms and give in when a voice cause him to stop completely.  
  
"Tristan... wait." Rory called out to him, her feet slapping against the pavement.  
  
Tristan took a few deep breaths, and pushed the tears back once again. He prayed that his eyes were not bloodshot and didn't give him away. One more calming breath, and he slowly turned around. He was greeted by the site of her mere inches from him, pulling a shirt out of her bag.  
  
"I believe this belongs to you." She handed it over, and when he pulled it from her hand, a look of loss crossed her face.  
  
"Thanks." He turned around, Rory simply being in his presence made him weak.  
  
"Tristan, please wait." He turned back around, watching her downcast face. "I'm sorry that I didn't listen to you earlier, and I said all those things. I wasn't thinking rationally. But we still have that project for current events class to do. I know things are going to be awkward, but can't we just forget what happened and move on." Her eyes raised to meet his.  
  
"Sure." Tristan spit out the answer and quickly unlocked his car. Rory put a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"No hard feelings?" Her tone was one that begged to be forgiven.  
  
"No hard feelings." He forced a smile her way before climbing in his car. He almost slammed the door in her face, but decided to be civil. "Do you... umm... need a ride?"  
  
"No... but thanks."  
  
"See you tomorrow." Tristan shut his door, and started the car engine. Rory watched as he drove away.  
  
***  
  
Rory stood outside the front door of Tristan's house. It had been two days since their courtyard encounter. So much had happened then. It seemed like ages since that meeting, and yet sometimes it seemed as if it had happened only a few moments ago. Rory had spent the whole bus ride back home thinking about how she would tell Lorelai what had happened.  
  
Lying had never been a option, but she was dreading the look on her mother's face when she told her what had happened. When she arrived home she sat her mother down on the sofa and proceeded to tell her the whole story of what had happened. Rory was relieved when her mother let her ramble on about the incident without interrupting. But the prolonged silence that occurred after her explanation scared her a little.  
  
Rory was waiting for the outburst of anger and the punishment. She wanted her mother to yell and scream and send her to her room without dinner. But that never happened. Lorelai simply set her coffee mug down on the table, leaned forward and took her daughter's shaking hands in her own, and said one thing.  
  
"What are you going to say to Dean?"  
  
***  
  
After leaving Rory alone in the parking lot Tristan had driven around the block a few times. He felt bad for abandoning Rory, but he couldn't bring himself to see her face. Tristan was afraid that Rory would change her mind and yell and scream at him like he thought she would from the very beginning.  
  
But his morals won out in the end. He could not in good conscience leave a teenage girl alone in an empty parking lot, even if it was in a safe area. Tristan raced back to the school intent on giving Rory a ride home, but when he arrived he saw her settling into her spot on the bus.  
  
What happened next was unexplainable. He saw that she was safe but an overwhelming feeling of protectiveness clouded his mind. Tristan proceeded to follow the bus all the way back to Stars Hollow. When Rory was dropped off in the town square he parked the car, and watched her walk back to her house, following just a few yards behind her at all times.  
  
When he saw that she was safe in her house and let out a sigh and slowly meandered back to his car. He had no desire to go home so he spent most of the evening driving around Hartford aimlessly. When Tristan did decide to return home, the ever understanding Patrick DuGrey didn't ask where he was. One look at his son's face said it all.  
  
His boy was falling for a girl, and falling hard. His heart was aching and there was no cure. The day wouldn't start until Tristan saw her, and every moment she was away was painstakingly long. Each moment was an instant memory, and every harsh word stung the soul. Mr. DuGrey himself had the same feelings when he first meet Tristan's mother. But Patrick had to wait and just had to be there when Tristan needed him.  
  
***  
  
Tristan threw his shirt over his head and down his sculpted body as he walked down the stairs. Rory had rung the doorbell moments before as he was changing from his Chilton uniform into something more comfortable. This was to be the first time Rory and Tristan would spend alone together since that night where their whole "relationship" had been altered. Tristan took a deep breath before he opened to door to greet Rory.  
  
"Hey." He motioned for her to come in. She followed her eyes surveying the open foyer.  
  
"Beautiful house." She smiled at him quickly before looking at her shoes.  
  
"Thank you." Tristan noticed that she too had shed her Chilton uniform, she must have done so at school before coming here. "This way, I've got the perfect place for us to work."  
  
Rory followed him down the hallway, her eyes still scanning the walls of his home. Pictures were everywhere, on the walls, on tables, no place was bare. Rory had never seen Tristan's parents before, he never even spoke of them, but she could tell he was loved. It was rare to see a functional family in their society today, and she was glad that he was an exception.  
  
Tristan led her into a glass sun room at the back of the house. The rays of the setting sun streamed into the room and highlighted the white furniture. At one end of the room was a table surround by for chairs. Rory saw a carafe of coffee sitting upon the table top and knew immediately where they were headed.  
  
Tristan poured her a cup and she smiled at the kind gesture. The atmosphere was tense as they began to discuss how to go about the project, but not from arguments about the work. There was a forced feeling of kindness that made the room overly stuffy.  
  
They were seated at the table now, papers, books, and other materials strewn about before them. The pair had been brainstorming for about half an hour with no real progress.  
  
"We could present the project with a computer power point, I know the school has projectors that we can use." Tristan said, his eyes scanning over the days newspaper.  
  
"That's a great idea, but I think we need a topic first." Rory smiled coyly as she pointed out the major flaw in his plan.  
  
Tristan chuckled at the oversight. "Of course you're right. I simply meant that we could do the power point, when we have a topic." He smirked right back at her.  
  
***  
  
Rory groaned out loud. They had been perusing the papers for a few hours now, and still were at a dead end. They had passed topic ideas back and forth but each was rejected for a number of reasons. To easy, to hard, not enough information, not feasible, too mundane, sure to be covered by another group, not within the requirements, or just plain stupid.  
  
"Ok we need an idea and we need it now." The aura of tenseness disappeared as each became more embroiled in the project.  
  
"You think I don't know that." Rory tossed the newspaper in front of her to Tristan, and it flopped open in front of him.  
  
"Ok, let's just try this." Tristan stared at her as an idea formed in his head.  
  
"Yeah." She waved her hand for him to go on.  
  
"What do you love to do more than anything?" He inquired.  
  
"Drink coffee." Rory smiled to herself at the thought.  
  
"Besides that." The corners of Tristan's mouth twitched up.  
  
"Read." She raised an eyebrow waiting to see where this was going.  
  
"Exactly, and what do I do have fun doing?"  
  
"Women." Rory bit her lip at Tristan's annoyed look.  
  
"No. Surfing the Internet."  
  
"I didn't know that." Rory smiled at him appreciatively. "But what does your love of surfing the net, and my love of reading have to do with anything?"  
  
"We could do our project on how the Internet has influenced the way people buy and sell books, and the influence that effect has had on society."  
  
Rory's jaw fell open as she thought about his idea. "That's brilliant. How did you think of it?"  
  
Tristan leaned back in his chair and plastered a cocky smile on his face. "I'm just a genius like that." Rory tipped her head to the side and smiled with amusement.  
  
"Actually," Tristan smiled as he leaned forward, "I saw this article in the paper you tossed my way." He held up the page for her to see, and indeed the headline about used books and the Internet was sure to have sparked his idea.  
  
Rory threw one more smile his way before the became enraptured in the project.  
  
***  
  
It was 10 p.m. before either one of them noticed how late it was. Tristan's father had popped his head in around 6 to say hi, but they never stopped working. A pizza was ordered and consumed, and yet the work did not stop. But now they were both exhausted, mentally and physically.  
  
Rory's head was pounding from all the ideas that were bouncing around in her head, but she was in the zone. Nothing could stop her brain cells from firing when she was in the zone. It was a state of complete knowledge and gave her an absolute high. Nothing else mattered to her, not even when she knew something else, perhaps something more important, was being forgotten.  
  
"Rory, I think we had better call it a night. You need to get home, and I don't want you falling asleep at the wheel."  
  
"You're probably right." She closed the book in front of her, and packed some papers into her bag. Before she could sling it over her shoulder Tristan grabbed it from her and placed it on his own shoulder. They pair walked towards the door in silence. Rory's head was dropped towards the floor, her hands in her pockets, while Tristan kept trying to sneak a look at her.  
  
Tristan opened to front door and walked Rory to her car. When her bag was deposited in the passenger seat Rory said a simple thanks and Tristan nodded in acknowledgment. Rory went to open the car door, but found that Tristan's hand had found its way on top of hers. The heat that passed through her body at the contact was quite a shock to her system. Rory took a deep breath before pulling her hand back. Tristan covered his slip by opening the door for her.  
  
"Oh, thank you." Rory stated as she climbed in.  
  
"Don't mention it." He clasped his hands together and rocked on his heels.  
  
"See you tomorrow."  
  
"Yeah." With that Rory pulled out of the driveway and headed home. Tristan watched her car leave with a simple way before heading back into the house.  
  
***  
  
Rory was smiling as she dropped her bag by the front door before heading into the leaving room. Her hand still tingled from Tristan's touch and for some odd reason, she enjoyed the sensation that coursed through her body.  
  
"Mom I'm ho...... Dean!" Rory jumped back a little when she saw that Dean was sitting on her couch. An indescribable look was upon his face. "Um... hey."  
  
"Hello Rory."  
  
"Not that I don't mind seeing you, but why are you here?"  
  
"Dinner." His one word answer was released harshly.  
  
"Why would my mom invite you to dinner when I'm not here?"  
  
"Your mom didn't invite me.... you did... last week... remember?" Rory's jaw dropped as she remembered their conversation.  
  
"I'm so sorry Dean I forgot."  
  
"Kinda like you forgot every date we were suppose to have since last Sunday."  
  
"Dean I..." Dean stood when he saw her begin to shake.  
  
"What's wrong Rory?" He enveloped her into a hug. Usually she returned the gesture, but tonight her arms lay limp at her sides. When he realized that his embrace was never going to be returned he cupped her cheeks in his hands and looked her in the eyes. "You can tell me anything."  
  
"Not this Dean, not yet." Tears began to well up in her eyes. "I'm sorry I've been so forgetful. Just give me a few days.... give me some space. Let me think things over."  
  
"Rory.... are you trying to break up with me?" Dean stepped back and regarded her posture critically.  
  
"No... not at all." Her answer came almost too quickly. "I love you Dean. I just need some time to think."  
  
"All right Rory. I'm going to give you your space, you know where to find me when you want to talk... unless of course you forget again." Dean turned away from her and stalked at the door. The tears began to roll down Rory's cheeks.  
  
***  
  
Rory sat, broken, on the couch once again. The immediate pain she felt at Dean's exit had dulled itself out, but it was still there, gnawing at her emotions. She should feel as if her world had just fallen apart. Granted Dean and her were technically still together, but for some reason she felt as if their relationship headed out the door with him.  
  
Rory was once again perplexed by her lack of emotion. Sure the pain had hurt, and in some ways it still hurt. Dean had left her... he had left angry, and now it seemed like she didn't care. It was up to her to go to Dean and fixed what was broken, but oddly enough, she felt no during desire  
  
to do so.  
  
Suddenly a thought popped up into Rory's mind. She raced around the room, her final tears vanishing with her search for the phone. Once found she quickly dialed the number and prayed that he was home. After five rings Rory's heart began to sink. Just as she was about to disconnect the line he  
  
picked up.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
Rory's heart fluttered nervously. "Tristan... it's Rory."  
  
"Oh, hey... did you forget something?"  
  
"No... sorry about the late hour, I just had to talk to you."  
  
There was a long pause. Tristan never thought he would hear those words come out of her mouth, in reference to him. But then again, he never thought he and Rory would ever do 'anything' behind closed doors.  
  
"Ok, what can I do for ya?" Tristan said as he leaned back against the headboard of his bed, drawing the covers up to his bare shoulders wardird off room's night time chill.  
  
"Can I ask you a question? A personal question." Rory slid down the wall, and sat on the bottom step of the staircase.  
  
Tristan's eyebrows furrowed together in thought. 'Where was she going with this?' "Sure, shoot."  
  
"It's about us..."  
  
"Us!" Tristan was shocked.  
  
"Well... what we did... and the ... umm... some complications have arisen... with Dean."  
  
"Oh Dean... right." Whatever flicker of elation he felt melted away the moment her boyfriend's name left her lips.  
  
"You see, the thing is, I haven't told him what happened between us last weekend. I've kind of been avoiding the subject, well truthfully, I've been  
  
avoiding him all together."  
  
Rory waited for Tristan to say something, but when he was silent she pressed on. "Anyways, the reason I'm calling is that I need your advice."  
  
"My advice?"  
  
"Yeah, I know that is not like me, but hell I wasn't me last week so let's just continue with the trend. Though I'm not really sure I like the idea of  
  
turning to anyone who is not my mother or local coffee supplier Luke, but I  
  
guess desperate times call for desperate mea...."  
  
"Rory, you're rambling." Tristan smiled at her state in spite of himself.  
  
"Yeah... sorry..." Rory let out a deep breath. "Back to the matter at hand.  
  
The advice. I don't know what to do."  
  
"About what?" Tristan's stared at the ceiling, waiting for her to get to the point, annoyed at her for waking him up, and yet loving every minute of it.  
  
"Dean, I don't know what to do about Dean." Rory brushed a piece of imaginary lint of her jeans.  
  
Tristan shut his eyes and tried to make the pain he felt everytime he heard  
  
that man's voice to go away. "You mean you don't know what to tell Dean."  
  
"Yeah, I guess I was beating around the bush there."  
  
"You were beating around the whole forest."  
  
"Yeah, well... can you help me?" Rory pleaded with him. Tristan slunk down in bed at the tone. Rory had no clue, but when she used that level of emotion in her voice, he could just see her puppy dog eyes, and, even over the phone, he couldn't resist.  
  
"Rory, as much as it pains me to say this, you have to tell him the truth. You don't have to give him all the gory details, just enough so he knows what you did. You have to tell him exactly what you felt then, and how you feel now. You're dating Dean, he even said he loved you, I think the man deserves to know what you did with me. Granted he may come and beat me to a  
  
pulp, but better me than you right?"  
  
The rhetorical question hung in the air between them. The static of the phone the only noise. "You make it sound so easy." Rory finally spoke and broke the tension.  
  
"It won't be." Tristan sighed.  
  
"I know. Thank you Tristan."  
  
"You're welcome. But what more thing..."  
  
"Yeah." Rory's voice was nothing more than a weak whisper.  
  
"It wouldn't hurt to add an apology when you talk to him. When he know's that you're sorry for your actions he is much more likely to take it in a somewhat calm manner. So an 'I'm sorry' is always a good thing."  
  
There was silence on the other end of the line. Tristan wondered if Rory had already hung up, then came her answer.  
  
"What if I'm not sorry?"  
  
***  
  
To say that Rory regretted the statement the minute it left her mouth was a grand understatement. The words had flooded out of her mouth before she could truly appreciate the impact they would have on the current situation. The "relationship" she and Tristan shared was already in a delicate state, and her comments would only cause more complications.  
  
And then there was Dean to worry about.  
  
Dean, sweet and loyal, charming and romantic, Dean. He had always been there for her, even if she didn't always ask for his support. He had declared his love for her, more than once. And one time in a very public place, Luke looked like he wanted to strangle him that time. She had those words of endearment back to him, and she had meant them.  
  
But what about now? I she were to tell Dean that she loved him now, would she mean it?  
  
The answer that came immediately to her scared her. No. She wouldn't mean it. The words would be empty, lacking passion and truth. I love you." It would be nothing more than three words put together to form a sentence. A mere grammatical lesson. Nothing more.  
  
Where had the love gone? What had happened, or who had happened, to their blissful relationship? Where did she go from here? What did she tell Dean, and how?  
  
"Tristan?" There was such pain in her voice the Tristan wanted to pull her into a warm embrace.  
  
"I'm still here." The silence had gone on so long that he knew what was  
  
going on with her mind. Rory, always the cautious one, was trying to do damage control, figuring how to salvage her relationship with Dean, and with him.  
  
"I think I had better end this conversation."  
  
"Ok." His voice betrayed none of his feelings. "I'll see you tomorrow."  
  
***  
  
The connection terminated with a single click. Tristan placed the receiver back in its cradle. The light he had turned on when the ringing phone first awoke him cast a dim glow over his room, almost dreamlike. Once again Rory had sent his whole world into a diving tail-spin. Before it was with actions that she never meant, and tonight with words that she was no doubt regretting.  
  
He clicked the light off and scrunched down deeper into the covers and tried to tell himself that he would find sleep again before the sun rose. It was a pitiful fight. He should have known that sleep would evade him for the rest of the night. So when the morning sunrise  
  
began to creep across his floor he gave up and simply got out of bed.  
  
The orange rays streamed through his open windows casting his bare skin in a bronze hue, and sending warmth through his chilled body. Tristan paced back and forth his mind analyzing every moment he had ever spent with her. None of her previous actions had even hinted to their relationship culminating as it had that night.  
  
The night when he thought he was on cloud nine. He had finally done  
  
something with her that he had only dreamed about. And then, he realized how wrong he was. And for the first time ever, he thought of someone else's feelings and reputation before his. Breaking away from her physically had been painful, but the past few days had an agonizing toll on his emotional state.  
  
This no-man's land of unexplored territory. The simple reality that for once in his life he did not know the outcome of a relationship. Tristan wanted to be with her more than anything. He had never felt so strongly about a person before. His heart ached with every moment.  
  
The moment Rory had said she didn't regret what had happened between them opened so many doors. It also made the pain of the situation even deeper. Now Tristan wondered if she wanted to venture into a relationship with him, and no just him chasing after her.  
  
Seeing her in later at Chilton would tell him everything. Rory never had been any good with a poker face. She wore her emotions on her sleeve and Tristan was an expert at reading people, even if he never showed it.  
  
***  
  
Rory had deftly avoided any contact with Tristan that morning. Each time she saw him in the hall she ducked her head, or found another route to her class. She didn't want to face him. Not yet. Not when things were so jumbled in her mind. There were a million ways to  
  
deal with her current situation, and she had yet to find that single one that would lead to an outcome that would settle well with her conscience.  
  
Rory had only been able to sort out three facts of which she was certain. She did not want to hurt Dean in any way. However, she no longer felt as if they belonged together. But perhaps the worst fact of all, was that, she did not regret what had happened between her  
  
and Tristan. In fact she reveled in the memory of the whole sordid affair.  
  
Rory could now clearly recall all her actions of that night. They had slowly come back to her over the past week, revealing themselves to her with certain memory triggers. A certain look Tristan passed her way, or a word he said, or just the simple brush of his hand as he picked up the pencil she had dropped. Each moment sent her reeling back to that  
  
night.  
  
***  
  
Rory was standing in front of her locker at the end of the day when his  
  
voice surprised her. She felt her body tense up with his simple hello. Rory sucked a deep breath into her lungs and tried to act as if nothing was going on between them. She slowly shut her locker door, leaning on it slightly to her the comforting click of the lock.  
  
"Tristan." Rory had meant her voice to come out as a simple hello, but she had failed miserable. Tristan read right through her.  
  
"There's no sense in avoiding me." He smiled back at her. Normally it would have been that cocky and arrogant smirk that made Rory want to smack him, but not today. Today it was a genuine smile, almost nervous like.  
  
"I'm not avoiding you." Rory shrugged her shoulders and turned away from him as she walked down the hall.  
  
"Right, just like that last gesture wasn't a brush off." He let her walk away for a few more steps before following after her. "Rory, you can't avoid me forever. We need to talk about this."  
  
"About what?" She turned around and smiled at him before taking off again.  
  
"Rory don't do this." He chased after her. "Don't run away from your  
  
problems."  
  
"I'm not running away." She suddenly stopped at stared at him in her  
  
defiance. Her breathing was ragged and her emotional wall was beginning to break. But she refused to give in. Once again she turned away from him. But Tristan had grabbed her arm before she could get away and whipped her around to face him.  
  
"Dammit Rory. Stop this. Stop trying to avoid the situation." Tristan's tone was harsh, but not angry, he just wanted her to her him. He searched her eyes for any sense of understanding, but Rory refused to look at him. He dropped his head and in a calmer tone tried to reach her. "Stop trying to avoid me."  
  
"I'm not..." Rory's words trailed off.  
  
"Rory... you practically sprinted down the hall after I came out of the chem room. I know when I'm being avoided." He paused and noticed a small smile twitch at the corner of her lips. "You never avoided me before, even when anyone else should have... you never cared enough about me before."  
  
That last comment made Rory finally look up. That simple sentence held so much truth. He was right, she had never cared before. Even when he had treated her like dirt and she would have liked nothing better than to never see him again, she wouldn't have gone out of her way to avoid him. She never would have changed her day just to avoid him before,  
  
why give him the satisfaction that she knows he existed.  
  
But now....  
  
Rory had gone out of her way to avoid him. She didn't want to see him,  
  
because she didn't want to get hurt... or hurt him. She cared about him, as much as she hated admitting it, she cared about him.  
  
"Tristan, I have to go...my bus." She tried to pull out of his grasp, but her efforts held no true urgency to them.  
  
"No you don't. It doesn't come for another twenty minutes." Rory had once again dipped her head, and Tristan gently placed a finger under her chin to raise her eyes to his. But the tears that had suddenly begun streaming down her cheeks stopped any words that would have come out of his mouth. "Oh, Rory."  
  
He pulled her into a hug, cradling her head in one hand, and slowly rubbing her back with another. She sunk into his embrace and just let the tears flow.  
  
***  
  
Rory had no idea how long she had let Tristan hold her, or who had seen  
  
them, but she didn't really care. She felt so safe in his arms, so wanted, so... loved. The slow and gentle caress of his hand on her back had such a calming effect that she wished to stay like this forever.  
  
Despite the ongoing battle with her emotions Rory felt like she knew what had to be done. As much as she had once loved Dean, those strong feelings were no longer there. It was wrong of her to lead him on, when she would rather think of herself with another man. The one with whom she was currently in an embrace. She was just stringing Dean along  
  
when really she needed to sit down with him, and explain everything.  
  
Rory could feel her tears subsiding and a strange sense of calm overwhelmed her. She had a sense of direction now. There was no more out-of-control emotional downpour. Of course, in the back of her mind she new it was only the eye of the hurricane, and there was more trouble to come.  
  
***  
  
"Dean."  
  
"Rory." The greetings were not harsh but there was a definite lack of  
  
kindness. Dean stood with his hands shoved in his pockets, a slight scowl upon his lips. There was and empty space between the pair, in the emotional sense as well as the physical one.  
  
"Dean, I'm just going to come out and say this." Rory paused a moment as Dean leaned back against the rail of the gazebo. "I think we should stop seeing each other... in the sense of boyfriend and girlfriend... I still want to be your friend, don't get me wrong, you're a great guy, but something changed.... I changed."  
  
The silence that followed her statement wasn't exactly awkward, but then again, it wasn't exactly normal. It was just... there. Dean's lack of expression gave away none of his feelings. Rory was waiting for an outburst, some show of emotion, but there was none. Instead Dean merely shook his head in understanding.  
  
"So that's it." He looked up at her and gave her small smile to show that he wasn't angry.  
  
"Yeah." Rory was a bit taken aback by his calm nature. Dean was normally such a passionate person that his lack of emotion almost frightened her.  
  
"Ok." Dean turned and began to walk away.  
  
"Wait... that's it? No questions asked? We're done in the dating  
  
department?"  
  
"Yeah. I mean isn't that what you wanted."  
  
"Well... yeah... but..." Rory was having trouble verbalizing her thoughts. "You don't want to know why? You're just accepting it?"  
  
Dean held their eye contact as he made his way back up the steps. "Rory... in all honesty, I was expecting it. I can't say I want to break up, but I was expecting it."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Yeah." There was a pause as the both took in the situation once again. "But now that you have my interest piqued...."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"How did you change... I mean, why have you decided to end things?" Dean took a seat on the bench, and Rory sat next to him.  
  
"About a week ago I went to a party, and for a stupid reason I got drunk, which I vow to never do again... anyways... For some reason, I really don't know why... I ended up kissing Tristan... and since then things haven't been the same in my head." Rory looked at the ground as she spoke, afraid that every word was causing a small tear in Dean's heart.  
  
"Something clicked didn't it... between you and him."  
  
"Yeah, I guess it did." Rory laughed at her own stupidity. How could she have missed that connection. "Please don't hate me for this." Rory looked pleadingly into his eyes.  
  
"I could never hate you. I may hate the accountant, but if you think that there is something good in him, then there must be. I mean you did pick me." Dean winked at her, and she smiled in return.  
  
"So we're friends?" She asked timidly.  
  
"If that's what you want." He stood and she followed suit.  
  
"I do."  
  
"Good, because I wouldn't let you go *that* easily." Rory laughed. "Come here."  
  
Dean opened his arms and Rory stepped into his hug. He held onto her tightly and whispered into her ear, "Thank you for our time together."  
  
"Same to you." She replied.  
  
They pulled away from each other, each smiling before heading their separate ways.  
  
***  
  
Rory was standing in front of Tristan's door recounting last night. She had sat Lorelai down at the table and told her of her and Dean's breakup. Her mother had merely sat there and stared at her with a look of sheer disbelief on her face. Her mother had known of Rory's "encounter" with Tristan, but Rory doubted that it would ever lead to a break-up between "the perfect couple." And she sure as hell never thought it was Rory who would be doing the splitting.  
  
Rory however was thankful that her mother had taken it so calmly. In fact she was quite pleased that the whole experience went a lot smoother than she ever thought possible. Rory thought because of that fact she would feel extremely guilty about the whole thing, but instead she felt like a burden had been lifted off her shoulders. She was now free to think things over without having to worry about the effects it would have on Dean.  
  
So here she stood in front of Tristan's house waiting for someone to answer the door. The two of them had put their project on hold for a while and now it was time to get to work. Rory was surprised that she had let her emotional life get in the way of her schoolwork. But now that was done and over with and she could push emotions aside and focus on her school work. The door finally opened and Tristan's father greeted her.  
  
"Well if it isn't the beautiful Rory Gilmore that my son is always talking about." Rory blushed slightly as Patrick DuGrey gestured for Rory to enter.  
  
"I'm sure he doesn't talk about me all that often."  
  
"You'd be surprised." Rory stood in stunned silence for a moment, for some reason she knew that Mr. DuGrey was being completely honest with her. An awkward silence followed his statement before Patrick finally let Rory off the hook. "Tristan's up in his room." Rory thanked him with a nod of her head before heading up the stairs. It wasn't until Rory was at the top of the stairs that she realized she had no idea where to find Tristan's room. Rory looked down the hallway. To her it was a bad scene out of a movie, tons of doors, any one of which could be Tristan's. Rory crept down the carpeted hallway praying that Tristan would step out at any moment. Well that didn't happen but the music blaring from the room with the "If you don't like the news, go out and make some" bumper sticker was a dead give away. Rory was about to knock when the door flew open in front of her. All her thoughts about focusing on school work flew out the door when she realized that Tristan was shirtless. He was talking on the phone and tossing a couple books onto his bed as Rory stood motionless outside his door. He motioned for her to come in, but Rory was rooted to her spot.  
  
Tristan paced the room. His tanned and toned muscles flexing ever so slightly as he moved. Rory's was mesmerized by the way that he moved. His body moved with such grace and elegance that Rory thought he had to have practiced the moves. The necklace that was his fashion staple sat perfectly at the base of his neck. Tristan rolled his shoulders as he switched the phone from one ear to the other and Rory felt her knees go weak as she say his whole back move.  
  
Tristan clicked off his phone, and that too was tossed on the bed. He turned towards Rory and tipped his head as he took in her glazed over eyes. She was staring at him, yet she didn't seem to even be on the plant earth. He took a few steps towards her and gently laid his hand on her shoulder. There was no change in her stance or stare.  
  
"Rory. are you ok?" No response. Tristan shook her slightly to see if he could break the trance that she seemed to be in. "Rory. Rory. earth to Rory?"  
  
Suddenly Rory jumped away from him and shook herself back into reality.  
  
"Oh hey." Rory's tone was breathy as she tried to make light of the situation in which she found herself.  
  
"It's nice to see that your brain decided to join your body. What happened?"  
  
"Umm. I don't know." Tristan knew that statement was a flat out lie because as she spoke Rory sent her eyes scanning up Tristan's well-defined chest. He looked down and realized that he was lacking clothing on the top half of his body.  
  
"Oh, I see." Tristan backed up to the bed and threw on the first shirt he found. "Let's get to work."  
  
"Yeah work." Rory followed Tristan into his room with the intention of working, but knowing that it would be the last thing on her mind. Neither of them had missed the fact that the shirt Tristan threw on was the one he had been wearing at the party.  
  
***  
  
Time seemed to be taunting Rory. She had told Tristan that she could only stay until 8, but the minute hand seemed to be teasing her. As if to say, 'I know you're uncomfortable, so I'm going to make this moment go ever so- slowly for you.' Rory couldn't help but check her watch every second she could.  
  
She was laying on his bed with a pad of paper in front of her. Tristan was leaning up  
  
against the headboard with his laptop finding information on the internet. His hip was a  
  
few mere inches from her eyes. Rory's task was to sketch out layout plans for their power  
  
point, but her job was proving much more problematic than it should be.  
  
It wasn't that working on the project itself was difficult, in fact that was going quite well.  
  
The pain came from the constant glances she sent to Tristan, she almost looked it him as  
  
often as she looked at her watch. And that damn shirt kept staring her in the face. The blue hue sending her mind drifting away from her work and back to that night.  
  
The night that changed the direction in which she had been headed. The night when his  
  
soft lips had descended upon hers. His hands had gently caressed her skin. Just the  
  
thought of his touch sent shivers down her back and caused sudden warmth to over take  
  
her.  
  
Rory knew her face was flushed and when Tristan caught her staring at him she knew it  
  
must have reddened even more. Rory quickly averted her eyes from his gaze and went  
  
back to sketching layouts for their power point slides.  
  
"Rory are you alright?" Tristan asked, laying a hand on her shoulder as he did so.  
  
"Yeah... I'm fine... I just can't seem to get this to come out right."  
  
"It'll work better when we actually get on the computer. It'll be easier to see the layout and edit the objects." He played along with her lie just hoping that she would ease into a  
  
'normal' conversation with him.  
  
Tristan knew, however, that it wasn't the layout that was bothering her. He knew her  
  
problems very well, because he was having the same difficulties. It was hard for him to not look at her face and realize that she had once stripped him of the shirt that he was  
  
wearing. That her hands had roamed his body and craved his attention. Rory had actually  
  
wanted him... and she claimed that she did not regret her actions.  
  
What he wouldn't give to feel her touch again. To have her skin touch his and set his heart on fire. There was a burning desire in him to toss his work aside and just capture her lips in one swift movement. His fingers twitched to touch her soft skin and his eyes screamed to look at her every movement.  
  
Rory dropped her pencil and collapsed in a heap over her work. Tristan was startled by  
  
her actions and nearly fell off the bed. He closed the laptop and set it on his bedside table.  
  
"What is it Rory? You can't be that big of a perfectionist that even the draft work is bothering you." His words were met with a grunt that turned into a gently purr as he slid  
  
down beside her and began to massage the back of her neck with his hand, his other hand  
  
propping himself up on his elbow.  
  
Tristan's fingers worked in gentle circles, slowly kneading the tension out of her neck.  
  
Rory reveled in the warm and smooth touch of his hand. The rhythmic motions of his  
  
fingers calmed her beating heart and she slowly shifted closer to him, waiting the calm  
  
sensation to overtake her whole mind.  
  
Tristan responded in turn by slowly placing lowering his hand to her lower back. He lifted her shirt up just a little and slowly massaged the tense muscle. Her soft skin began to warm with his touch and he fought to not pull her into an embrace. He lost. Rory turned on her side to face him, and instinctively his arm wrapped around her back and pulled her close. Their eyes made contact and Tristan felt his heart jump.  
  
The hand that had been propping up his head slowly moved a lock of stray hair behind  
  
Rory's ear. Tristan's hand cupped her cheek and Rory leaned into his touch. She closed her eyes as she felt his thumb rub over her lips. Tristan leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. He backed away and waited for Rory's response.  
  
Her startling blue eyes slowly opened and took in Tristan's face. Her mindset had jumped  
  
back to the night of the party, except this time she knew that she was in control of her every action. Tristan leaned forward again, and this time he kissed her eyelids one at a  
  
time. She flickered her lashes against his lips. Tristan pulled away slightly and then placed a sweet kiss on her slightly parted lips.  
  
Rory's hand flattened on Tristan's chest and she slowly pushed herself away from him. It  
  
was not a motion of rejection, but one of caution. She didn't want to rush into this when her feelings were still so new. Rory slowly eased herself off his bed and grabbed her bag.  
  
"I'll see you tomorrow." She said at the door before closing it behind her.  
  
***  
  
Tristan rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Why was it that he could not help himself when he was around her? Every moment she was near him was a struggle to hold back his feelings. Rory had to know how much he adored her by now. After everything that they had been through together, she had to be able to tell how much he cared for her.  
  
"But what if she doesn't?" The words were spoken so softly that Tristan could scarcely hear them himself. "She has to know."  
  
In an instant Tristan leaped off of the bed and ran to the door. He was down the hall and onto the stairs, chasing after Rory before she could leave. As he hit the final step he heard a car door close. Tristan slammed the front door open and it crashed into the wall, but he didn't care.  
  
Rory had to know.  
  
But he was too late. Her car was pulling out of the driveway and onto the road, leaving him standing alone. Tristan cursed to himself. Why hadn't he moved faster? Why did he wait to decide that she had to know his feelings? Why?  
  
***  
  
Rory stood at her locker the next day with her mind in a daze. She could still feel the soft touch of Tristan's lips on her face. A slight blush crept across her face when she thought about the way he had been so gentle and caring. Tristan had not even protested when she pulled away. He was so different from when she had first met him.  
  
He had changed. That much was easy to see. It was the cause of the change that was difficult. Then again, she had changed too, and unlike Tristan she could pinpoint the exact moment it had happened.  
  
The night of the party.  
  
What a fool she had been to think that she could still be the same after that evening. Nothing was the same any more. Not her life, and certainly not her feelings. She had changed, and yet she did not find a problem with the new path her life had taken. Sure there were some regrets. causing Dean pain was one of them. But all in all she was happy.  
  
She was utterly. dare she say the happiest she had been in a long time.  
  
Rory smiled when she thought of the way Tristan had looked at her as they researched. He had tried to make it not so obvious that he was looking at her, but he had failed. She caught him looking at her and it made her happy that he did. A tingle ran through her body every time he had sent a glance her way.  
  
But why was he looking at her?  
  
Rory had an idea that he may have liked her, but she had never seriously considered it. But then again, why else would he kiss her like he did? Before that certain night she would have thought he was being his normal, playboy, self. But now that idea went right out the window.  
  
Perhaps he liked her.  
  
Rory chuckled at herself. How was the possible? Tristan was a devastatingly handsome man. She was a simply small town girl. People had told her she was beautiful, but Rory thought that she was nothing compared to the beauty queens Tristan usually associated with.  
  
But there was something new in his persona that made her think that Tristan was actually looking for beauty on the inside, instead of beauty on the outside. He had not crushed a girl against her locker in almost a month. the longest he had gone before was a day or to. And even then it seemed as if he was looking to gain her attention.  
  
And for the first time ever, Rory actually wanted Tristan to notice her. She wanted him near to her. Her mind turned to the project they had to work on, and now she actually wanted to go thank the teacher for pairing them up. Her new attitude was exciting. Rory Gilmore actually wished to be in the presence of Tristan "Bible-Boy" DuGray.  
  
She wanted to talk with him. She wanted to spend time with him. away from school even. Rory actually came to the conclusion that she was falling for Tristan. A small smile spread across lips.  
  
***  
  
Tristan was sauntering down the hall but at a faster pace than normal. Today he was on a mission. Rory was in his sights and today she was not getting away. He had to tell her his feelings before she went off on one of her analytical crazes and mistook something he said or did.  
  
Tristan saw the smile spread across her lips, and he couldn't help but smile to himself as well. When ever she had that look upon her face he knew that she was happy and he drove himself crazy trying to figure out why she was happy?  
  
He traveled the final steps to her side and casually leaned up against the locker next to hers. Leaning into her ear he whispered words that sent a shiver down her spine. "Pray tell what you are thinking about that makes you smile so."  
  
Rory turned to face him and the smile broadened, brightening up her whole face. "Why do you want to know?"  
  
"Well if I have anything to do with it, I would like to do it more often, so that you always smile like that."  
  
"What makes you think you have anything to do with my happiness?" The words that would normally be harsh to his ears came out in a teasing tone that set his heart on fire.  
  
"Well a man can wish can't he?" Tristan brushed his finger along her cheek.  
  
"He certainly can." Rory bit her bottom lip. "And if he wishes hard enough someday his dream might come true."  
  
"How I wish it would." A sad look flickered in his eyes, but it was there for the briefest moment. He took his hand away from her face and looked at the ground  
  
"You think that your wish won't come true?"  
  
"I think that I may be reaching for something that's too far out of my reach." Tristan looked back up at her.  
  
"What would that be?" Rory grabbed his hand and held it softly in hers.  
  
It was now or never for him. He had to tell her, he would never get a chance like this again. He's mind told him to tell her, that this time she would understand, but it was still a struggle for him to get the words out of his mouth.  
  
"Tristan. what is it that you want?" Rory smiled at him reassuringly.  
  
"You." The word came out in a whisper but it was loud enough to still Rory's heart for a beat.  
  
"You. you. you want." Rory was stuttering now. She thought that Tristan may like her, but to hear his actual feelings was much more moving.  
  
"I want you Rory. I want to be with you all the time. When I'm away from you time seems to stand still. My day doesn't begin till I see you. I love seeing you and I love being around you. I want to spend more time with you. I've wanted to be with you the moment I first saw you that day in class."  
  
"Tristan. I ."  
  
"I understand if you don't feel the same way, but I'll give you time to digest this before you say anything. I'll understand if you don't feel the same way, but I do want to be your friend at least. I have to get to class, but please think about it, at least the friend offer if nothing else."  
  
Tristan turned to walk away. He got a mere few steps down the hall before Rory grabbed his hand. He turned around and faced her. All she did was smile in return.  
  
END 


End file.
